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“Mads! You made it!”
It was very clear to Mads that, despite the fact he was only half an hour late to Hugh's apartment, that Hugh had already gotten started. His eyes glittered brightly, his cheeks were stained a deep pink, and his voice had that slightly musical quality it always got after a few drinks. Was he drunk? No, but he wasn't far off it. They embraced warmly, a muttered “happy birthday” from Mads the only real acknowledgement of why he was here; well, that, and the rather large bottle of whiskey still grasped in one hand.
They moved further into the apartment, Hugh closing the door behind Mads.
“I was going to cook for us, but then I had a couple of drinks and decided cooking was too much effort. And not recommended. So I've ordered food to be delivered. I hope that's okay?”
“If I was Hannibal I would have to eat you, but I'm not Hannibal, and I love fast food, so I'm happy.”
“You can eat me if you want,” blurted out Hugh, who immediately turned a fiery shade of red. “I – I mean, uh...”
He trailed off, mouth still working helplessly before Mads took pity on him.
“Maybe if I'm still hungry after our dinner,” he joked, somewhat weakly, but it was enough to have Hugh laughing. Mads wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining the slightly hysterical edge to Hugh's laugh or not. He had long since come to terms with his own attraction to Hugh; who wouldn't find him beautiful, with those soft cherubic features framed by unruly brown curls? He'd just never thought that Hugh would ever return those feelings. They'd been friends for so long, and he'd had feelings for Hugh almost since day one, and not once had Hugh ever given any indication that he saw Mads the same way Mads saw Hugh. Sure, he'd said things in interviews from time to time that left Mads floating on a cloud for a day or two after, but that was different. Hugh liked to publicly support his co-stars.
This though … this felt different. And Mads had to put a lid on it before he took it the wrong way and said something stupid. He made his way to the kitchen, helping himself to a glass and pouring an over-large measure of whiskey, downing it swiftly. He looked up to find Hugh watching him with a curious expression.
“I need to catch up to you, don't I?” he said with a laugh, pouring himself another drink.
“You don't even like whiskey,” Hugh stated, now looking vaguely amused. “And anyway, I'm pretty sure you bought that for me. I have beer in the fridge, if you'd prefer that.”
“Whiskey's faster,” Mads said, swallowing his second glass with a grimace. “Though that second one was worse. Give me the beer.”
Hugh just laughed again, a more relaxed, natural laugh this time, and crossed over to the fridge to pull out a bottle. He twisted the cap off and held it out to Mads, who did not fail to notice the way their fingers brushed as the bottle passed between them. He lifted the bottle to his lips, drinking back half of it in one go. It was somewhat of a relief to wash the taste of the whiskey away.
“I'll never understand why you like that shit,” he said, gesturing towards the whiskey.
“I clearly have a more refined palate than you,” Hugh responded, grabbing his own glass off the counter where he had left it, and pouring himself some of the drink.
Mads just laughed, taking another swallow. He was touched to find that Hugh had stocked his favourite beer, in much the same way that he had given Hugh his favourite brand of whiskey. He guessed that was just what happened when two people had been such close friends for over a decade, though. It didn't mean anything else.
He went to take another swig of his beer, mildly alarmed to find that the bottle was now empty. He hadn't planned on getting drunk, but between his lack of food all afternoon, the large glasses of whiskey, and now the beer, he was definitely well on the way.
“So when's the food arriving?” he asked, depositing his empty bottle on the table and grabbing a new one from the fridge.
“We've got time for at least one more drink. Maybe two,” Hugh said, peering at his watch. Mads just smiled, opening his beer and then following Hugh out into the living room. They spent the next half hour chatting and laughing, Mads' body growing more and more pleasantly fuzzy as the alcohol worked its way through his system. He managed to down another two beers, and it did occur to him that he should maybe slow down a little, before he was too far gone. He did, however, decide he was definitely already too drunk to drive, so he might as well just stay the night on the couch. It wouldn't be the first time in their friendship that he'd done just that.
He had just decided to ease off a bit, waving away Hugh's offer of another drink when they were interrupted by a buzzing at the door. Hugh leapt up, going to collect the food. He re-entered the apartment with a wide grin on his face, his eyes slightly unfocused, and despite his best efforts he couldn't hide the way he swayed as he walked.
“You're drunk,” Mads stated, perfectly aware of the way his own voice was slightly slurred.
“I'm not drunk,” Hugh answered, carefully making his way over to deposit the food on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I'm nicely tipsy.”
“That just means drunk,” Mads said, almost overjoyed when the smells of fresh Thai food began filling the room. “You got my favourite! But it's your birthday, not mine.”
Hugh just shrugged as he pulled the dishes from the bag.
“I wanted to get something you liked. And I like Thai food anyway, so it seemed like the best option.”
Affection surged through Mads and he threw caution to the wind, throwing an arm around Hugh's shoulder in what he hoped was a purely friendly hug. He may have lingered a bit too long to truly fool himself into thinking that's what it was, but Hugh didn't protest. In fact, if anything he seemed to relax into it, leaning a little closer to Mads for a few seconds. Mads couldn't resist turning his head a little, all but nuzzling into Hugh's hair. He just barely refrained from making contact, and was left with the odd feeling of disappointment mixed with a healthy dose of relief when Hugh moved away again, without seeming to notice what Mads was doing.
“I need to get plates. I'll be back in a second,” Hugh said as he stood, leaving Mads suddenly cold and bereft. He couldn't help but watch Hugh as he made his way to the kitchen, then screwed up his face and ran his hands over it. He had no idea what he was doing, except that he now knew that he really shouldn't have drunk as much as he had. It was getting harder and harder to pull himself back under something like control. If he wasn't careful, he was sure he would do or say something that would leave things between them entirely awkward, and if there was one thing he didn't want, it was to lose what they had. He'd gone over ten years without taking things further. He could go longer.
“You alright?” Hugh asked as he re-entered the living room, plates and cutlery in his hands. Mads blinked up at him and smiled.
“Yeah. Thinking I shouldn't have had those whiskeys, is all.”
“I still can't believe I watched you willingly drink that much when there was perfectly good beer right there in the fridge.”
“I didn't know there was beer in the fridge, and it was an emergency!” Mads exclaimed, giving Hugh a playful shove with his shoulder as he sat back down.
“Of course I would have your beer for you,” Hugh said, turning to look at him with a curious, and puzzled look on his face. When Hugh's expression softened by increments, looking as affectionate as Mads had ever seen him, it felt like the bottom had dropped out of Mads' stomach. And then it was like the air was being slowly sucked out of the room the longer they looked at one another, and Mads could once again feel the alcohol currently coursing through his body coaxing him into doing something he would doubtless regret. He was well on the way to being drunk, Hugh was definitely drunk, and this was a bad idea.
And even yet, with those objections running through his head, he found his eyes dropping to gaze at Hugh's lips, those beautiful pink lips that currently had the tip of Hugh's tongue running across them...
Shit.
He tried to look away, he really did, but he was transfixed. He decided he'd really lost it when he thought Hugh was moving closer, closed his eyes against the hallucination before him before he tried to act on it, but then those lips really were grazing his, and his eyes sprung open in astonishment. His head jerked back of its own accord to find Hugh really was leaning forward, only now he looked mortified.
“I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, obviously had too much to drink,” he began babbling, and it almost broke Mads' heart to see how hurt he looked behind the forced smile now fixed to his face. Hugh began to stand, but it only took a brush of Mads' fingertips to have him frozen in place.
“Tell me the truth, Hugh,” he managed to grind out, his voice hoarse. Because he was damned if he was going to just let this go. He'd dreamt about it too often to let it just be brushed off, not when he was certain that it was no accident.
Hugh sat back down slowly, not exactly refusing to meet Mads' eyes, but not going out of his way to look at him, either.
“I may have gotten a bit drunk on purpose,” Hugh finally allowed, still but for the way his fingers incessantly tangled with each other.
“I'm glad you did,” Mads replied.
“Glad I got drunk, or glad I kissed you?” Hugh asked with a small laugh.
“Both.”
Hugh turned then, and their eyes met once more, but this time it was different; no less charged, but now with expectation and knowledge guiding their moves, rather than blind want and hope. Mads couldn't help repeating what they had just done, dropping his eyes to watch Hugh's mouth, only this time when Hugh leaned in, he leaned forward himself to meet him. Their second kiss, just as drunken as the first but somehow feeling as sober as anything they had ever done, was soft, and warm, lips pressing and sliding. Their tongues darted out, just a taste, and even through the whiskey Hugh was still the sweetest thing Mads had ever tasted.
They broke apart, equally as dazed as each other, both surprised to find that their hands had drifted over to one another.
“I've wanted to do that for so long,” said Hugh, a slightly disbelieving laugh following his words.
“So have I,” answered Mads, his words tickling Hugh's lips. Neither of them were quite ready to move away from each other just yet.
“I sort of wish we had,” continued Hugh, reaching up to gently brush a few strands of hair from Mads' forehead. “But at the same time, I wouldn't want to change this.”
They pressed more kisses to each other's lips, simply enjoying the feeling of being in one another's arms for a few moments longer.
“We should eat, before this gets cold,” Hugh eventually murmured.
“Yes,” Mads replied, feeling more drunk on Hugh than he was on the alcohol, and playful to go along with it. “We wouldn't want to waste your seduction efforts, would we?”
“Seduction efforts?”
“It's your birthday, yet you bought my favourite beer, ordered my favourite food, and deliberately got drunk so you could kiss me. You were definitely seducing me.”
The tips of Hugh's ears grew pink then, and Mads was gratified at the way he didn't dispute what Mads said.
“Not my fault you're easy, Mikkelsen.”
Mads just laughed, and settled in closer to Hugh.